Memento Mori : Carlisle's Story
by AlabamaEsme
Summary: Carlisle Cullen. Abused. Hated by his father. Gifted carpenter. Naive. Protector of the weak and the innocent. The founder of a whole new way of thinking in the vampire world. This is the story of the complex Carlisle Cullen and what makes him, him.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is just something I'm writing for the heck of it . I thought it would be interesting to find out what Carlisle's boyhood would have been like before he became a vampire . I don't know how long I'll make it , depends on if people read and review and if they enjoy it . Yes , in the beginning I did make his father a little out of context , but he'll show his true colors , I promise you . **_

_**Disclaimer : I own nothing in this story , only the characters I created for the preface , John , Mary , and Anne the midwife . **_

_**Memento Mori **_

_**Ita EGO exuro **_

' _**Remember that you are mortal , And so I burn ' **___

_**London , England . 1645**_

" _Mrs. Cullen ? " the midwife said softly . _

_Mary looked at the older woman . She had long blonde hair and soft blue eyes and pale skin . Her hair stuck to her face from where she had been sweating . The birth had been hard and painful . " Yes ? " she whispered weakly , instantly afraid . Was something wrong with her dear child ? _

_The midwife smiled " You have a baby boy mam . " she murmured . She gently wrapped the small baby that she held in her arms with a warm handmade blanket that Mary had made a few weeks ago . She gave the small baby to Mary . _

_Mary smiled as she held her son , blue eyes filled with awe for this gift that God had given her . " If it wouldn't be too difficult Anne , might you bring John in ? " she asked , referring to her husband . _

_Anne nodded , the midwife leaving the room . She returned a few minutes later with a anxious looking man . His gentle face lit up when he saw his wife and newborn child . He had dark brown hair and green eyes. "Mary "he breathed , moving quickly to her side . _

_Mary smiled at him " He's beautiful , is he not ? " she asked John . _

_John nodded , hesitantly touching his son's tuff of blonde hair " He is very beautiful " he murmured . _

_Mary carefully gave John the baby to hold " Take care of him for me John . I know you will raise him well " she said . She could feel herself fading fast . _

_John stared at her , eyes wide with panic " No ! Mary … please … no ! " he whispered . He understood why his wife was telling him this . Surely though , God would not give him a son to only take his wife away from him ? _

_Mary smiled sadly , tears brimming in her blue eyes " It's God's Will ,dear . " she murmured . She placed a hand on John's cheek " I love you , my dear John . Raise 'im right for me , name him Carlisle . Make sure he becomes a Man Of God . " she said softly . _

_John shook his head " Mary …. " he mumbled . _

_Mary's eyes closed and her hand fell from John's face as she joined the Lord in Heaven . _

_Tears rolled down John's face , landing on the child in his arms . _

_The small baby whimpered , then was silent . _

_Following his wife's wishes , John named their son Carlisle . _

_**London , England . 1650 **_

_**John's POV **_

" Carlisle ! " I half yelled , searching throughout the church for my five year old son . Where was he hiding now ? He always seemed to be finding a new place to tuck himself away in here in God's House .

" I'm here Father ! " I sighed in relief as a blonde headed five year old boy poked his head around a corner by the alter .

He looked so much like his mother , my son did . He had the same blonde hair and blue eyes , only they seemed to pierce you , look into your soul . That was how many had described them , at least . He was as gentle as his mother was as well , and just as quiet .

" What have I told you about hiding in here ? " I scalded as Carlisle came up to me . I knelt on the ground so I was eye level with him .

Carlisle looked down at his boots , hand playing with the side of his breeches " Sorry Father . I won't do it again , I promise " he mumbled meekly .

I could no longer be mad at my young son . For how could I , when he had meant no harm ? " Come along now , we must get ready to Worship . " I glanced him over , eyeing the dirt on the knees if his breeches , " And we need to clean you up . " I added .

Carlisle looked at me . He nodded " Yes sir "

I smiled . I stood back up and took his small hand , walking back to our quarters so that we could get ready to worship our Lord this wonderful day .

_**Please tell me what you think about this crazy idea of mine . Like I said , his father is a bit out of context , I know . My theory is that he had married Mary because they had actually loved each other . This meant that he tried to follow her wishes and raise Carlisle with gentle hands …. He won't remain this way . I promise . I have to keep this historically correct somehow . **_


	2. London , 1655

_**London , England . 1655 **_

_**Carlisle's POV **_

"_Carlisle! Slow down will you? "_Thomas hollered at me. I laughed, stopping and looking back at the older boy whom I had become fast friends with. Thomas Holland was twelve and I was merely ten, yet I was taller and stronger than he was. I was faster as well. I had proven that many times over in our foot races on our way home from the carpenter's shop that we now worked at.

Thomas loped up to me, the whole time shaking his head, "Carlisle, are you sure you're not my elder? You run with the likes of a man who has demons on his heels!" he teased lightly, "Not like a ten year old child! "

I glared at him playfully as we walked side by side, " I wouldn't say that near the Reverend – he _will _do what he can to see if I do have demons on my heels . " I reminded him gently . I tried to avoid thinking of the deeds that my father did to people he called ' the Devil's workers ' who were most likely innocent . Few were spared from his rash judgments when it came to what he deemed holy and what he deemed unholy . If he ever thought that I might have a demon on my heels … I shuddered at the thought .

Thomas saw . The boy had a sharp eye on him , he did , " Your father has the hardest hand on you , my dear friend . My mother says she has never heard of any man – Reverend or not – that strikes his child like he does you . " he said quietly , " How hard was his last night ? " he added .

We weren't walking anymore . Instead we stood near a small alleyway away from the main street . I sighed , " Come " I said simply , turning and walking into the alleyway . I heard Thomas's footsteps behind me .

He stared at me dumbly as I adjusted my shirt and then removed my bandages to show him my side . The welts were an angry shade of red , with blood and puss oozing from them .

" Carlisle … " he breathed . His brow knitted as he looked at me . There was confusion in his hazel eyes .

I redid my bandages so I wouldn't have to look at him, " He was extremely mad last night . He believes that it is my fault that our cow will no longer give us milk . I can't get him to understand that she is starving as much as we are . " I said quietly . I looked up at my friend that I had known for several years now . We had met when my father thought I was old enough to handle the laborious life in the carpenter's shop . I had been seven , Thomas had been nine . He had watched as my young body became hard from working . I had watched him become a young man .

" How can you bear to live with him ? I would have fled long ago if I were you . "

" The Lord didn't run when he was beaten by others … he turned the other face and accepted it in a quiet manner . " I said .

We were back on the main street . I could see that the church wasn't far from us now . The building that I had called home for ten years now was behind it , hidden from view of the streets . " You will be a good man , Carlisle , that is for sure . " Thomas said before he jogged off as we passed another road – the road that took him to his home .

I was glad he had to go because I had no desire to tell him the truth . I was deathly afraid of my father . I feared his now brutal hands , so different from the gentle hands that he had treated me with in my younger years . I knew that he blamed me for my mother's passing , and he had ever right to . If hadn't been born she would still be alive . It did not help matters that instead of wishing to be a reverend like he was I wanted to be a learned man in the world of science and language along with other studies .

" You're late again , Carlisle . " my father's gruff voice was what welcomed as I walked inside my home .

_Nice to see you as well Father . _I thought . I did not say the comment though because it would get me a severe beating . " I'm sorry father , I talked to Thomas longer than I normally do . I won't be late tomorrow . " I said , standing in the door way of the main room in our house .

My father looked at me . His eyes held were cold and filled with pure hate, " I told you I didn't want you around that Holland boy . His mind wanders too much for my liking . Lucifer will have him under his control in no time "

" Thomas is as much of a child of God as any other boy I know . "

My defiant words brought my father's wrath down across my face . I stumbled backwards and tried to catch myself with my hands but I failed . I yelped in pain when they came in contact with the poker that was still red hot from coming out of the fire , the skin on my palms burning before I could move them away .

" I will decide if your friends are children of God , not you ! " he bellowed . He grabbed the poker and held the cool in tight in his hands .

I struggled to control my terror as I laid on the ground at my father's feet, " Please … not tonight Father … please … " I pleaded .

My father noticed that he had me in fear of him now . I closed my eyes and bit into my lip to avoid screaming as the iron poker burned my skin as he brought it across my ribs –the searing pain in my chest told me that at least two were cracked . " One day I will make you obedient , Carlisle . " he snapped as he brought the poker down across my body once more . He then sat it down and left for his bed – leaving me in tears beside the fireplace .

After an hour or so I stood and got a cool rag to apply to my new burns . Each breath was painful due to my cracked ribs . I would not complain though , no , I could not give my father the satisfaction of knowing he caused me so much pain . When I finished tending to my wounds I went to my tiny room .

I knelt at the foot of my bed . _Lord , please help me through . Help me take my father's wrath , help me on my path of following You . Show me what I can to do to be like You , to help others find Your grace . What am I supposed to do , oh Lord ? I'm so scared . It feels like no matter how hard I try I fail to win my father's approval . Please Lord , at least help me understand how I can win Your approval . Amen . _

I curled up under my single blanket and tried for sleep .


	3. Chapter 3

_**London , England . 1658 **_

_**Carlisle's POV **_

_**Current age : 13 . **_

_He's going to get himself killed, trying to tame that creature. _I thought, watching as Thomas tried to mount a young three year old colt his father had bought. In a sense it was comical due to the fact that my friend couldn't ride this horse – much less get it to pull a cart or work in a field - but it wasn't funny because this horse was truly a wild and dangerous creature.

He was thick through the neck and he had a massive head. His legs were solid and strong and his back was a little wide. His shoulders were strong and he looked like he was meant for a cart as much as was meant for riding. In my opinion he looked more like a war horse than he did a poor man's work beast. His color was a deep cherry bay, his mane and tail the darkest of black. It wasn't his build or color that intrigued me though – it was the proud fire in the animal's dark eyes. He was so regal , yet there was a hidden gentleness about him . If only my friend knew how to bring the gentleness out and not the proud fire.

"Thomas, let me work with him . You are going to get killed if you try to mount him again. " I said , walking into the small pen that had been made .

" What do you know about horses ? This beast is out to kill – you'll get killed as well . " Thomas said as dodged a set of flying hooves .

I didn't reply to him , focusing on the bay in front of me . " Easy now , easy boy … don't stir up trouble , it's not going to get anywhere … easy … " I murmured , approaching the stallion slowly .

His eyes locked onto my form . His ears stopped moving and they to pointed towards me ; I had his attention . When I was three feet away from him I stopped .

This horse was massive . He stood at 16 hands easily – maybe 17 . He snorted loudly at me , more than willing to show he wasn't too happy that he was here . I chuckled a little " I understand … he's been making you run around … Thomas is smart , but he's terrible when it comes to animals … shh .. " I grabbed hold of his bridle .

Instantly the stallion squealed , throwing his head up in an attempt to get me to release his head . I didn't though and he finally settled down . His eyes were softening , revealing the quiet gentleness that I knew was there .

A small smile spread across my face as I started to stroke his muzzle and then his neck . Slowly I worked my way to his back . I grabbed his mane and made a try for his back .

The stallion reared a little and I fought to keep my body on his back and away from the ground . " Easy ! Easy boy " I pulled him around in tight circles to avoid giving him the chance to throw me . I had no intention of getting personal with the ground below me today .

He stopped fighting me after another five minutes . I pushed him into a walk . He threw his head up for a moment but then complied .

Thomas was watching in amusement as I pushed the stallion through his gaits . He had a wonderful free and powerful stride that was easy and smooth . I had seen few horses that moved like this . I had never gotten on one though , so this was a new feeling to me . " I don't believe it . How is it you can get this beast to do what you want without striking him once and I all I get is flying hooves ? " Thomas asked , laughing .

I grinned as I stopped the stallion, " I didn't strike him . That's all . Horses are intelligent creatures … they have minds like people . If you treat them right they'll work for you . " I said .

Thomas just rolled his eyes . He thought like many people did – he thought of horses as creatures of labor and not creatures that could think and understand kindness .

I dismounted and patted the stallion's strong neck with a smile, " He's a good horse . He needs a firm master that is also understanding of his strength . " I said as I led the stallion over to Thomas .

" And you are that Carlisle . I'll make you a trade on this beast . " It was Thomas's father , Peter .

" What kind of trade , sir ? " I asked, " I do not have anything I could give you in exchange . You know that Brother Holland . " I said .

Peter shook his head " we need a good mule more than we need a horse . The Reverend and you have a fine one . I'll trade you the horse for the mule . " he offered with a smile .

Thomas and I exchanged a glance . It was possible that my father would be willing to make such a trade . I shared only one thing with my father , and that was the love of a good horse . I knew my father would be glad to have a young horse as strong as this one … he might be willing to give up our mule for it .

I nodded " I shall ask him tonight . He might be interested in him . " I said .

Peter nodded "On Monday I shall speak with him . "

_**Monday, 1658 **_

_**Author's Note: **__**To avoid possibly upsetting anyone, I did not do a 'Sunday' because of a sermon. I know very little on this area of Christianity and I don't want to upset anyone by posting the wrong information on how an Anglican sermon might have been performed in this era. I hope everyone understands.. Now back to the story ! **_

_**John's POV **_

It was approaching midnight by the time Carlisle had fallen asleep and I was able to slip out of the house . I was always very careful to wait until he was asleep before I went on these nightly outings . I could not afford for him to ask the questions that he would ask if he ever knew … I winced as the door of our house creaked , glancing uneasily around the darkness ahead of me .

" Please remain asleep , my dear boy … " I whispered as I left my home . I finally had to use my lantern about halfway down the trail – the roots and rocks were too dangerous here for me to walk only by moonlight .

Carefully I moved the old wooden gate of the cemetery and walked inside . I knew the way from here , but I kept my lantern lit anyways . " I am sorry I haven't visited you lately , my dear , our son has been very restless at night for the past few days . " I murmured as I sat beside the headstone .

Ever since Mary had died I had tried to sneak out every few days or so to talk to her . I knew I was a foolish man to think she could hear me , but I could not help myself . Like many marriages ours had been arranged . We were lucky however , because we did love each other .

" He's so much like you , Carlisle is . I've yet to see him lose his temper . He favors you as well … blonde hair , blue eyes … his aren't soft though . His are hard and piercing – the eyes of a man who is made to get people to share their deepest fears with him . It's a dangerous ability . I don't think he knows about it yet – he's still too young to understand . " I said softly, " He's going to be a fine man when he gets older . In another year or so he'll be one , I suspect . " a quiet sigh slipped from me as I thought of my sons plans .

" He wants to go to school and be a learned man . I need him here though … it's time he begins his true training to take my place . I think I will let him be schooled for a few years though . When he is twenty he should be able to take my place here at the church . " I glanced at the place where my wife was buried , tears in my eyes " Oh Mary … he has so much faith in our beliefs . Nothing he sees seems to sway his feelings about the Lord . He loves to share the Lord with as many people as he can everyday . Every time I strike him he just takes the pain and waits till I am done before going and quietly fixing his wounds- trying to be like Jesus and accept his pain in silence . I wish my faith was as strong as his … but mine is nearly gone . It is hard for me to support a god who took my own precious wife from me … and I think Carlisle sees this . I think he knows that I no longer believe … he doesn't call me out on it though . He never has . He allows me to live my cursed life like this because he knows he cannot change my feelings . " I did not know that I was crying now . I continued to pour my pain and feelings out to my dead Mary , hoping that she actually might be able to hear me . " It's difficult … trying to get him to be a man of a god that I no longer believe in …I can't even do the church any good . I have begged time and time again for the Lord to show me a sign , show me _something _that would help me . He has shown me nothing . " I added in a mumble .

Glancing at the grave beside me I sighed and shook my head " I am sorry for unloading my troubles on you , my dearest Mary , but I must go now . Someone might see me . " I said as I stood . Wordlessly I made my way back to the house .

_**Carlisle's POV **_

_Early morning , sometime between 2 AM and three AM ._

The sounds of footsteps awoke me during the night . _Where has he been for the past few hours ? _I laid still as my father passed my bedroom , my breath catching in my throat when he stopped in front of my door . _Please don't . give me a few more hours of peace , give me a chance to heal a little before you beat me again …_ I couldn't contain the sigh of relief that escaped me as my father continued onto his room; I was safe for a few more hours .

I tried to sleep once more , but my whole body seemed to throb from the beating I had received earlier this morning . Thankfully , none of my ribs had cracked or , worse , been broken . They were still healing from the last time they had cracked . The memory of that cold morning sent a shiver down my spine - that had been one of the worst beatings I had ever received . I hadn't been able to go to the carpenter's shop because my wounds had been so severe . It had made my father mad that I couldn't work , but he let me stay at home and rest .

I don't recall any other time that he gave me that chance . _Don't think about that Carlisle , think of something else , you need rest . _

I allowed my mind to wander to a place that I could only be in dreams or in moments like these . Closing my eyes , I tried to imagine my mother and what she might have been like . Thomas's father had told me that I favored her in looks and personality , but I couldn't prove whether or not he was right though because my father refused to speak of her .

I had only a single , very faint memory of my mother . I knew she had died only minutes after my birth , yet I could remember a woman , very similar in appearance to me , smiling down on me in her arms . Time had started to blur everything , making her face hard to see , but the unusual warmth that accompanied it had not faded .

I stared off into space while I willed for sleep to come once more when a flash of white caught my eye . My gaze shifted to a stool in my room ,and I swore that my mother was sitting there , watching me . Something white opened up from her back that looked like a dove's wings before she smiled and vanished .

The memory would haunt me for years to come .

_**I'm aware that this chapter skips around a lot and is probably confusing at points . The horse training thing isn't a special memory for Carlisle , it is simply another point in his life . **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**London , England. 1661**_

_**Current age : 16 **_

_**Carlisle's POV **_

I watched from a corner in the room as my father assessed the girl in front of him who was being accused of using witchcraft. She couldn't be older me, actually, she looked younger than I- no more than 15 years of age. Her hair was a sheet of black satin that rippled down to her mid-back, her eyes a soft misty grey that often covered the countryside around London. She was of average height and she had a small, willowy frame. Her face was filled with fear and true innocence. From what I had gathered her name was Ruth.

There was no way she could cause anyone the harm that she was being blamed for-how could this innocent looking girl be a murderer? Surely my father would not accuse her of being one. All he would be doing is killing an innocent young woman. I had seen him do this many times however, so I could guess her fate would end like every other 'witch' . It would end with death.

My father had started making me come to these meetings of conviction about two years ago and each one hurt me as much as the very first one had. Seeing people who could be saved and guided back to the Lord killed without mercy …it sickened me .

Now, I listened as this young girl told her story, her father and mother flanking each side of her.

" I swear I didn't kill him sir! One moment I was yelling at him to leave the chickens alone , the next I was laying on the ground and the man was dead in front of me! I didn't 'urt no one ..I swear sir …"her words were starting to become slurred and difficult to understand as she started to sob. My father was glaring at her with convicting eyes as she struggled to keep her head up and prove her innocence.

To me, it sounded as if she had been possessed. Her mind had went blank just as the man had collapsed and all she could remember was right before and right after. She had confessed to having bouts of this blank memory issue, often finding strange designs that she had carved into the ground surrounding her. I knew though that I could not convince my father of this theory, that all she needed was to be led back to God. No , he would order her death because he thought she was a witch. Her family would be banned from the church and the possibility of them being forced to leave their home was high as well.

" Father? Might I offer my opinion on the ..discussion at hand? "

_**Ruth's POV**_

I had noticed the young man standing in the corner, but he hadn't said anything for the past hour until now. It would have been impossible to ignore him despite the fact that he hadn't said a word. He had omitted an aura that filled the room with a quiet, warm , relaxed energy. I had been terrified of what might happen, but the influence of the young man had somehow soothed my nerves and I had managed to stutter my way through my tale.

It had been hard though to avoid looking at him because I could feel his gaze on me. I had caught sight of his eyes before the trial began and I was required to look at the Reverend and I had been struck by how blue they had been. Not only were they a very light, icy shade of blue, they were also piercing. As piercing as they were they were also the kindest thing I had ever seen before- filled with a quiet gentleness that balanced out the unnatural piercing blue that his eyes were.

All I knew about him was that he was Reverend Cullen's son and that his name was Carlisle. He was slightly famous with the community for his kindness and exceptional medical skills even though he didn't have any formal training.

My thoughts were pulled back to the present as the Reverend spoke," Go ahead, Carlisle. What do you wish to say? "

Carlisle moved his piercing gaze from me to his father. I could have sworn I saw the older man flinch from his son's cold gaze," I do not think she killed anyone-willingly. Her stories match every other story in the Bible of someone who is demon possessed. "He said. His voice was surprisingly quiet, though the confidence was unmistakable. This young man was sure of his opinion.

The Reverend stood, walking over to Carlisle. I tried to hide my smile as I noted that Carlisle easily stood three to four inches taller than his father, " You thinking that is the problem?" he asked , his voice was low and menacing .

Carlisle nodded.

I felt my mother jump back as The Reverend struck his son hard across the face, causing the younger man to grimace in pain. He did not scream or even whimper, he merely touched his face with his fingertips in surprise before looking at his father.

The Reverend glared at him for a long moment before he returned his attention to me, "I do not agree with my son. I believe that you are a witch- you will be sentenced to death in two days." He said, dark eyes staring at my family and I. "Carlisle, escort them out. "

Carlisle glanced at him, nodded, and then guided my family out. The minute we were out of the church he stopped to address my father. I noticed that his eyes were gentler , having lost the coldness that had been in them previously , but still very piercing. "Leave the city immediately. It is not safe for you any longer . If you wish to live, you must leave. "He said.

My father looked at him, "How do I know that you will not tell the Reverend that we have fled? "He asked.

A very faint smile touched Carlisle's face, lighting up his warm features."I stand for the innocent."He said simply.

My parents exchanged a glance before nodding.

Carlisle glanced at the church behind us, " Go ahead and get to your mule. I will escort you out of the city." He said before turning and jogging away to a small stable with a loping gate.

A few hours later, Carlisle pulled up the horse he had been riding at our side. He glanced at my father, " I can't go any farther. I have to get back before nightfall … my father will have already guessed what I have done by now . Keep going until you cannot travel any longer. The further away you are from this place, the better off you shall be." He said.

My father nodded, studying the young blonde "Thank you, you have saved all three of us." I saw my mother smile briefly in agreement.

Carlisle didn't seem to react to the thanks. He merely nodded and wished a quick farewell before he tapped his stallion's sides and the horse shot off towards London once again.

_**John's POV**_

I heard the horse before I saw them. Carlisle was riding stiffly in the saddle and the horse was covered in sweat from a long ride. "Where have you been?! Do you realize how long you've been gone?" I snapped as Carlisle all but fell off Ash, the bay stallion.

He merely looked at me "We both know what I was doing. Of course I know how long I was gone." His tone was short as he pushed past me, leading Ash to the stables. I went to grab his arm and stop him, but I stopped short when he spun on his heel and glared at me.

I had never seen hate in Carlisle's face. He had never seemed able to show such an emotion. I could see the hate that my lantern brought out in his piercing eyes now though. They filled with hate, "Do not touch me. Do not try and 'punish' me for what I have done. We both know that she was innocent. Now, if you will please, I would like to attend to my horse before he goes lame." He then turned and continued to the stable, leaving me in a stunned silence.

_**Carlisle's POV**_

I rubbed Ash down, trying to be quick yet thorough about my work. My hands shook with the fury that I had controlled for so many years…the fury directed at the man who claimed to be my father. The toe of my boot slammed into the wall of the stable and I yelled in pain before I was blinded by my rage. "Why?! Why him of all the men you could have made me call father?! Why a murderer? WHY GOD? Tell me! Tell me…what have I done to deserve such a horrid man for a father!" I yelled. I stumbled into Ash and I barely registered his squeal of fright as I stumbled from him and back to the wall again like a drunken fool might have done. Anger consumed me. Anger at the God who had decided that a murderer should be my father. Anger directed at my father, who went out of his way to make sure I understood that he hated me. I had never felt so full of anger, frustration, and confusion…yet I could barely see straight because of these emotions at the moment. Eventually though the anger became sadness and regret as I sat on the ground and hung my head in shame. " I'm sorry….I did not mean to get angry with you God…I ..I have been struggling recently. You know this though…yet you have not shown me what way to go…please help me God…I am confused…."I whispered. The tears fell from my eyes as I sat there in the now dark stable, my only company being Ash and the Lord.

When the anger and sadness finally faded for good was when I finished taking care of Ash. I stabled the stallion, murmuring my apologies to him. As if understanding that I had never meant him any harm, he nuzzled my face, heaving a sigh before he plunged his muzzle into the fresh water I had given him.

A small smile lit my face before I turned and went out into the cold night. From there I broke into a run. I needed to clear my mind and get away from all thoughts of my Heavenly Father and my mortal one. When I reached my destination I grinned as a delicate shape detached itself from the shadows of a nearby building.

"Maria"

The name slipped from my lips as I embraced the girl that the name belonged to. Her short brown curls bounced around her face as she laughed softly and hugged my neck, pulling me down some so that she could do so. When she finally let go I met her thrilled, hazel eyed gaze." I thought you weren't coming tonight! I was getting worried. I thought the Reverend might have beaten you again…" she said, keeping her voice at a whisper in case anyone was around.

I shook my head "No, but I was doing a few other things. I had to see a small family out of the city before he killed them. They should be far away by now though."

Maria frowned instantly. She hated the fact that I risked my life over 'unneeded' things, such as keeping others safe. That was her only flaw in my mind. She thought like most people did, seeing the trials as a good thing and not as a crime. My father didn't approve of her though because of a simple feud he had years ago with her own father. Contact with her was forbidden. I still visited her though as often as possible between midnight and dawn.

I felt my hand slip into hers as we moved into the shadows, talking in soft murmurs.

My father was still, for the moment at least, unaware of our closeness. The only person that knew of my relationship with Maria was Thomas, and he had sworn to me that he would tell no one. If anyone found out that I was courting her in secret….it would not end well.

When I finally had to leave her, the city was starting to stir. She hugged me tight and tears were rolling down her cheeks, but when I begged her to explain to me why she was crying, she just forced a smile and said "Because I am going to miss you, my dear Carlisle."

She explained in a hurried whisper that her and her family needed to leave. They were going to Italy. Her father had apparently met a few 'kind, very rich men who would take care of them.' I decided to avoid asking for more information, knowing if she told me anything else my heart would ache all the more.

"I will miss you as well. Please take care of yourself Maria." I whispered.

She rested her head on my shoulder "Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me that you will move on. Promise me that you will love someone else and that you won't let love slip past you…. You are too good of a man to not find a suitor. Promise me…."

I felt my vision blur, knowing this was her way of saying goodbye. I nodded weakly in response. "I promise" I felt my throat tighten as I uttered the words. The world I had created in my mind, the one I had planned on giving her within the next few years, all came crumbling down as I agreed to the promise. I was going to give her a home. I was going to help her start a family. We were going to be happy together. I was going to get her father to like me and get him to agree to let me take his daughter as my own wife. She was going to be Maria Cullen someday.

All of that came crashing down.

Maria took one of my hands, fingertips fluttering over the hard calluses on my hands. She sighed, smiling weakly "You'll find the right woman for you, Carlisle. It will not happen in the near future because you will still be hung up on my absence, but you will find the one who you are made to be with and you will be a perfect husband for her. You'll be her lover, best friend, and leader. Oh how I wish I was that lucky woman…but I am not. I know you will miss me for a while because you are like that, you dwell on the past too much sometimes, but when you find this woman that is for you and you only, don't pass her up." She said softly.

She knitted her fingers with mine and we stood there for a few more minutes. "Tell me their names. Who are these men that are taking your family in?" I asked in a murmur.

She looked at me after kissing me softly on the mouth and stepping away. "Aro, Marcus, and Caius. My father spoke with Aro and said he is a nice enough man who wants us to come live in his castle. Mother and I would be maids while father would help with the upkeep of the land." She said. She murmured her goodbye, and then she was gone.

Just like that my first love had walked out of my life, causing all of my dreams and plans for the future to come tumbling down."


	5. 1666

_**England: 1666**_

_**Current Age: 21**_

_**Thomas's POV**_

Reverend.

Not friend.

Reverend.

Leader.

Despite the fact that it had been two weeks since Reverend John Cullen had stated that he would be leaving his place in the church and would be electing someone else to replace him, I could not adjust to the idea of my best friend becoming one of my church leaders.

Looking at the blonde man who had settled himself in the tree branch above me, quietly reading a book that I recognized to be the Bible, it was impossible to think of him as anything but the quiet and warm hearted person that I had befriended years ago.

"Are you afraid? Are you afraid of having that kind of power, I mean." The words slipped out before I could stop them. My cursed thoughts seemed to have a perfect, unblocked gateway to my mouth.

Carlisle's piercing blue eyes met mine. He sighed, looking away and closing his Bible before staring at the cover "Yes. I'm terrified, Thomas. I do not like power of any kind. If one has power they can become corrupt. Yet wisdom and knowledge can be a form of power…and I crave that, so in a way I crave power. I do not wish for the kind of power that I'm expected to inherit though. "

"Of all people who I would expect to abuse power, you are not one of them. The King, on the other hand-" I started, but was cut off as an apple was thrown at me.

Carlisle flashed an innocent grin "We do not talk about His Majesty with an ill tongue. I will throw apples at you if you do so."

I smirked, picking up the apple and rubbing it on my shirt to knock any loose dirt off it before biting into it.

"That had a worm in it, by the way. That's why I threw that specific apple at you." A casual tenor voice said from above.

I froze as something slick wiggled its way onto my tongue. Gagging, I chucked the apple as far away as possible, spitting the bits out of my mouth "Carlisle! You sick…" I spat again, deciding to not finish my sentence. I didn't want to get hit with another worm infested apple.

Carlisle was laughing and fully enjoying my disgust at his little trick. At least until he fell out of the tree, having leaned over too far. He muttered something unintelligible as he sat up some, face covered in dirt. "Ow." He was looking at his leg, a surprised expression on his face. His leg was bent at such an awkward angle that it shouldn't have been possible for it to get into that position.

"You fool, you broke your own leg by falling out of tree; now how exactly are you going to explain that to your father and the doctor?!" I asked. I was trying not to laugh though due to his surprised and confused expression as I moved to his side.

He winced as he twisted a little through the waist and side, trying to get a better look at his newest injury. When most would do everything in their power to not look at an injury, Carlisle eagerly did what he could to view the injury. Then he would try his hand at fixing it, and as history had proved several times, he didn't always do it quite right. The long scar that ran along his hand proved that from where he had accidently cut himself in the carpenter's shop. The wound had been gut wrenching nasty by the time he actually had the local doctor look at it.

Now he sighed, looking at me with a lighthearted expression "Well…guess it's time to go home so I can reset it-"

"You are not resetting it."

"Why can't I?"

I rolled my eyes as I slowly helped him to his feet" Because, frankly, I don't trust you to do it. Fixing a broken finger and fixing a broken leg are two very different things."

The grumbled reply was too low to understand, but I got the general idea from it: he disagreed. "Let's just get you home. It's going to be a long ride home. "

He agreed this time.

When I offered to help him mount Ash, he merely shook his head, grabbed the saddle, and slowly lifted his leg up to the stirrup. I watched as his face twisted in agony as he threw his good leg over the saddle, the one in the stirrup seeming to shrink as the broken bone shifted from the pressure. He leaned over, eyes shut tight.

I frowned, having already mounted my own horse. I looked at him, concerned "Are you going to be able to make it?"

He nodded "Of course." He mumbled voice weak as he sat up. When his eyes met mine, they were as bright as ever.

After making sure he had his Bible and a few other things, he clucked softly to his horse, gritting his teeth as the canter we now rode in agitated his injury. _~Such a stubborn, hard headed man.~ _I thought. "Carlisle…stop your horse." I half yelled at him.

Either my words weren't heard or I was being ignored. Guessing by the slight frown that tugged on Carlisle's face, I chose the latter. Grumbling to myself, I edged my own mount closer to Carlisle's, grabbing his reins. Ice blue eyes widening in surprise, he unwillingly allowed me to pull both of our horses up and into a walk.

"Would you like to explain to me as to _why_ you felt the sudden urge to grab my reins?" his tone was short, snappy, and very annoyed. Carlisle wasn't someone who got upset easily…he had to be in a lot of pain for him to lose his miraculous control of the infamous Cullen family temper.

"Calm down, won't you? I can tell you're in pain, so we aren't going any faster than a walk. You may complain all you want, but we will be walking." I retorted.

My only reply?

"It's will. Not won't."

_**Yeah, I know that Carlisle is a little out of character in this chapter, but I also know that everyone gets angry and that everyone gets a little playful. Even Carlisle. He's still a young adult who's life seems very simple and boring at times….he's not the 300+ year old doctor that he is in the Twilight Saga. My goal is to show all sides of his personality that was hinted at in the books by the time this fanfiction is over.**_

_**Song I listened to while writing: Cemeteries of London by Coldplay and If Today Was Your Last Day by Nickelback. **_


	6. Chapter 6

_**London, 1666**_

_**That evening, around 8 o clock. **_

_**Current Age: 21**_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

"You foolish boy- when will you learn?"

My father's harsh voice was almost as painful as his iron fist. No, it was even more painful because he could take words and contort them with his voice; he could make everything he said painful. "I was beginning to think that you actually might have a little bit of a mind in that head of yours. You can't even go one day without an injury though! To think I was going to make you my successor….how can I allow someone who is hurt to replace me though? Is it that hard for you to do something right? Ever since you slaughtered your own _**mother**_ you have ruined my whole life! People pitied me for my 'loss of my wife…but at least she left you with a son'…" he laughed bitterly as he slapped me hard across my face" She left me with you- a foolish dreamer who doesn't understand anything I try to teach him. The only time you were decent was when you were a young boy. Now that you are a man though you have let any intelligence you had slip away from yourself. God would be doing all of England a favor if he struck you down right this instant. I would do it myself, but your 'God-fearing' friend Thomas would find out what I had done and he would kill me for it. "

My eyes were on the floor, watching as a mouse dared to leave its home. I barely got to move my own head out of the way of my father's flying boot as he threw it at the small creature. I winced and looked away, not wanting to know if he had hit his target or not. All I could say in response to his words was, "I'm sorry, father. I'm sorry that my birth took my mother from you and I'm sorry that I am such a burden to you." I whispered softly. I knew that the beating I was sure to receive…this time I couldn't run from it. With a broken leg I was forced to stay where I was and quietly take the beating. He had probably chosen this night for this specific taunting and abuse because of that.

"No you are not. Why would you feel sorry for such things when you have nothing to worry about? Why be concerned about 'petty, unnecessary things' when the whole of London loves you?" I looked up as he glared at me, "You're such a hazard to the Christian world that you should be sent to the Tower or the House of Detention. You wouldn't last long at either place; you would go mad at the House of Detention and they would either hang or behead you within days at the Tower because they wouldn't be able to stand your mumblings!"

Horror filled me at the thought of both places. I had accompanied my father to the Tower and the House to take people who were thought to have committed heresy. Of the ones that had been sent there, I knew of only three that had managed to live. Thomas's mother, Anne, had been imprisoned in the House of Detention. She had gone on to end her own life a year after she was released because she had gone mad from the memories of the dark building.

I did not want to go to either place.

_Why do you take this? You are so much stronger than him_, I asked myself, _reminding him of the fact that you are the stronger would be easy and quick. All it would take is a single strike….._No. I could never purposely hurt my aging father. Looking at him from my place in the chair near the fire, it was easy to see that he was in fact very fragile. His skin was wrinkled, his eyes tired, and his body was thin. _So delicate…._I sighed and looked away, staring down at my hands in my lap as he continued to yell. I did my best to ignore it as I told myself that none of it was true. I wasn't foolish. I did have a mind and I was intelligent. I could not lie to myself on one thing though, and that was how my mother had died. Within minutes of my birth she had died. Her death was my fault. If she hadn't have died then maybe my father would have been gentler, kinder, maybe- the idea seemed impossible- maybe he would have even loved me.

The only time I could remember him loving me to any extent was when I was a young boy. As time had worn on he had shown me his real personality. I've done my best to avoid doing anything reckless in hopes of keeping him from beating me, but each attempt I make at pleasing him seems to make him even more hateful towards me.

"Why do you hate me? I've done everything I can to please you and make you proud to call me your son, and yet you still feel the need to strike me. Most fathers quit their harshness once their sons become men….you haven't. I've taken care of myself all of my life…I've done what I could to keep you happy….I'm not as bad as you say. I refuse to believe it." My own defiant voice shocked me as the words tumbled from my mouth. I wasn't the kind of person who rebelled. I never had fought my father; always quietly taking his abuse while I fought back tears in an attempt to hide my pain.

"Excuse me? What did you just say, Carlisle Cullen?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him picking up what appeared to be his walking cane.

_**John's POV**_

His jaw clenched as he bit his tongue, wrestling with the words he wanted to say to me. When he felt it was safe to speak, I was barely able to hear his quiet voice, "Nothing father. I spoke of nothing that was of importance, I was just mumbling to myself. Talking to one's self is quite common among the possessed and damned as I'm sure you know." His elbow was on the armrest of the chair, his chin in the palm of his hand. As his eyes lifted from his leg to me, I forced myself to meet his gaze.

Again, I had pushed my son to the rare point where he became angry. Piercing blue eyes looked upon me, filled with a dark warning that would be unwise to ignore. The cold, almost hateful anger masked most of the hurt, but not all of it.

With a shake of my head I left the room quickly. I had done what I wanted: forced the gentle man that carried my surname to doubt himself so that he would stay in London and in the Church. As long as I could make him doubt himself, I could keep him here and away from any chance of being schooled and possibly ruined. I knew it wasn't fair to him but I needed him to run the Church later on.


	7. Chapter 7

_**London, 1667**_

_**Current Age: 22**_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

"I want to look here if we can manage it within the next month or so. I've seen a few...Promising signs that it might be inhabited by them." I tapped the map laid out in front of me, glancing at the five other men in the room. We had been working together for a year and a half now, trying to finish my father's mission in a manner that would cause as little harm to our dark city as possible. Thomas was still my closest friend, but the other four men in the room that I now worked with were close to me as well.

There was the man who had taught me how to master the trade of carpentry, Oliver Hanson. He was almost 60 in age and his body showed that, but he was a quick-witted old man and I trusted him. Louis was my closest friend after Thomas. Adam was the Bishop for the London area. William was a close friend of mine, so that was why he was with us today.

Oliver frowned almost instantly, "And what makes you think that there could be _vampires_ within this area?" he asked with a shake of his head. Vampires were rarely hunted down; our main killings were normally anyone who was considered to be a witch, so the idea of hunting down a coven of vampires wasn't brought up very often.

"I was out late last night when I heard what sounded like people, only they spoke so fast their voices came out as hisses. I stayed in the shadows as much as I could and let my lamp die out when I was close enough. There was a group of five vampires sitting in the faint light of a lamp. They were arguing over something- what I do not know- and they moved much too fast to be human. They were pale as fresh snow and had red eyes. I would have stayed longer, but one of them must have caught my scent because it froze and then the others did as well. I left after that." I stated simply. I understood that it hadn't been a good idea to have even considered getting that close last night, but I couldn't help it…my curious nature got the best of me.

Adam had been pacing the length of the room while I told my story. Now, he stopped and spun on his heel to face me" How many did you say there were?" he asked.

Thomas and I both spoke at the same time" five."

William looked at all of us "If there is five of them and six of us….we could handle them, couldn't we?"

"No, we could not." Louis spoke up for the first time. He sighed, shaking his head "Carlisle said that they move 'faster than a human', does that mean too fast for us to kill them? Or does it mean just a bit faster than us? If they are as fast as Carlisle has made them out to be, then it would only be a death sentence to try and kill them."

"So you want us to leave them and hope that they don't slaughter the whole of London?" I snapped.

"They will leave in due time. I say we just let them be for now and watch what they do. "

"Instead of bickering like two five year olds, "Oliver started, "Why don't we call forth a vote?"

Adam nodded his agreement for the idea. "If you believe that we should hunt them down, as Carlisle says, then raise your hand." I watched as Thomas, William, and Oliver both raised their hand. Adam raised his as well before he dropped it with the others. "Louis, it appears as if you have been deemed as the wrong one in this situation. I trust that-"

Louis stood, looking as if he planned on strangling one of us "If you want to follow Carlisle to your own graves, then fine, I will not stop you! I warn you now though…." He went around the table until his face was inches from my own, "They will kill you without a second thought. You, my friend, will be leading these men to their deaths. "He hissed.

I carefully placed my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him away "Only the people who wish to come with me shall come. I will not be forcing anyone to '_follow me to their deaths'_ as you have so…kindly put it." I murmured. I didn't like the idea of killing- even if what I was killing were monsters- and the idea of losing people who I was fond of made me all the more sicker at my stomach. "If I find that the best thing to do would be to turn away, then I'll turn away, but I will not turn away if there is a chance that these monsters can be removed from the city." I could feel everyone's eyes on me and I wanted to keep every last one of them safe- even if it meant taking the lives of another creature.

Oliver cleared his throat, sparing me from the wrath of Louis's anger "I think it has been decided, Louis, that we will follow Carlisle's plan. Carlisle, when you feel that you have everything in order for this extermination, tell us and then we will proceed with your plan." He told me in a quiet voice.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, before walking out as Adam dismissed us.

Thomas was at my side in a few moments. He was already bouncing with eagerness for this unique 'cleansing' of our home. "So, where are these vampires?" he asked.

"I'll take you there."

"Now?"

I looked at him, laughing briefly "No, twenty years from now. Of course we are going now." I rolled my eyes at my friend. Muttering something to himself, Thomas mounted his horse and I mounted Ash, offering up a quick race in the process.

Thomas **chuckled to himself quietly** "No thank you. You are the only one who runs like he has demons on his heels; your horse does too."He teased before we set off, maneuvering carefully through the streets.

For most of our ride we were quiet, or at least until Thomas realized where we were going. "Carlisle, may I ask you something?"

I glanced at him "Ask away, dear friend."

Thomas adjusted his reins, biting his lip. He finally spoke after another few moments "Why were you out this way?" he asked.

I knew the reason, but I didn't want to say it. I had met up with Maria several times in this area due to the protection that it gave us; few had came in that direction, so it offered a good place to meet up and spend time together. I could feel a familiar ache in my chest at the memories I wanted to forget, and apparently Thomas noticed the look in my eyes, because he sighed, "Carlisle…..that was several years ago. You need to move on from her. Remembering Maria isn't helping you, it's only hurting you, and I hate seeing you go from your joyful self to this hurting man every time something is mentioned that reminds you of her. It has to stop….you're going to kill yourself with all of this grieving. Even your _father_ has noticed it. Are you listening to what I'm saying? Your _father_ knows that something is wrong with you. "He said.

I knew he only wanted to help me, but there was nothing he could do to help me get over the memory of the tiny girl I had fallen for. "I should have listened to you when you told me to stay away from her. Like you said, she would cause nothing but trouble for me." I whispered.

Thomas started to say something in response, but I cut him off as I stopped my horse "Here we are." I managed a smile as I jumped down from Ash. Thomas looked at me warily as he copied me, then we walked into the darkness of the tunnel.

"_Do you smell that? Humans….healthy ones…no sign of illness…."_

"_Yes, I do smell them, but stay where you are. I recognize the scent of one of them- he was here recently. He was the one who you tried to attack…the one who got away. There could be a mob nearby….don't hunt them…." _

Thomas looked as terrified as I felt. "L-Let's go, Carlisle." He stuttered in a whisper. I looked over at him, but didn't move as I felt something ice cold brush against my arm.

The pale figure of a man was standing beside me. He had simply appeared out of nowhere, he was just beside us in an instant. He laughed lightly before he disappeared again.

I grabbed Thomas by the arm and yanked him out of the sewers, just as eager as he had been to leave now. I had no desire to linger in the place that was home to a coven of very dark creatures who wanted only one thing- blood.


	8. Eve of 1668

_**London, 1667/New Year's eve of 1668**_

_**Current age: Just turned 23 **_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

There comes a point in life when one must decide if they are right or wrong in their decisions. I had reached that point, but my decision affected not only myself, but several other people. My decision would help decide if they would live to see another day, or if they would tempt death in a few days by following me into a fight against creatures we knew very little about.

Thomas was all for it- he trusted me too much.

Oliver was hesitant, but he was willing to stand by me if I asked him to.

William was ready to go, and I was fairly sure he would be happy to act alone if he needed to.

Louis had refused to speak with me since our argument, so I was sure he had no interest in fighting with us.

Adam was like I was- wanting only what was best for our city. He didn't like the idea of killing either, but if it was needed, he would do it.

Then of course there were the other people who would be risking their lives with me, but I wasn't as close to them, so it was a little easier to accept the idea of them getting killed than it was to accept the idea of Thomas or Adam dying. I still didn't like idea of anyone dying though. If I went through with it and they all were killed…. But if I didn't go through with it they would live for a bit longer at least, but they could still be killed if the vampires ever decided to attack us.

The odds were against us. The vampires were stronger and faster, and we only had general ideas on how to take them down. Burning them seemed reasonable, but I was afraid that it would take more than just ramming a stake through their hearts and some flames to kill them. They were counting on me to make a choice, and I had to make that choice with only three hours left to decide.

The idea of allowing people to be killed because I let the vampires to live wasn't something I liked, so that left me with only one choice, and that choice was to kill them before they killed us.

I stood up and left the place I called my home, preparing to tell the people that waited inside the church what I had decided.


	9. And So I Burn

_**England: 1668**_

_**Current Age: 23**_

_**Three days after explaining and organizing the attack on the vampires in London's sewers**_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

I was grateful for the one thing I was able to do better than Thomas and the other men who were working with us, and that one little thing happened to be able to ride with a pitchfork in one hand, a sword buckled to my waist, and a flaming torch in the other hand. I wasn't the best when it came to _using_ my weapons, but at least I could stay on my horse without gripping the reins. William found it amusing that someone with my build and 'powerful' looks could easily be thrown to the ground. We all had our faults when it came to fighting, mine just happened to be slightly more dangerous for me because I couldn't fight well. I felt silly and awkward though when I stabbed a piece of wood or any form of a target. I knew I would do better when I was fighting things that moved and actually, well, _fought back._

Oliver feinted to my left with the pitchfork that he had, smirking when I twisted out of the way. "You're finally getting it. If only you were as good at fighting as you are at carpentry." He taunted.

I tried to hide my smile as my twist managed to place the tips of my own pitchfork against his chest, "I can't be too awful, because you are 'dead' now." I replied, allowing my smile to show.

"_**Carlisle!"**_

I looked up instantly, recognizing the commanding the voice that I heard learned to fear since I was a young child. I stared at my father, knowing that surprise was written clear across my face. He had developed a cough recently, so I hadn't expected him to come out of the house.

Adam paused in his own mock fight with Thomas, his gaze flickering uneasily between my father and me. It wasn't a secret that our relationship had gotten rockier in the past few days, though none of us knew why, including me.

"Yes father?" the words came out of my mouth as they always did- hesitant and wary even though my aging father was struggling more and more to cause me harm now that I was the stronger one.

"Come inside. I need you to help me with something, might as well put your youthfulness to use." The words were grumbled with an obvious unhappiness as he walked inside the house again. He didn't like admitting that he needed me.

Oliver gave me a gentle, but firm, shove towards my home. I sighed, leaving the simple training session to be the obedient son that did whatever he could to please his irritable father. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness of the building, but when they did I drifted over to my father who was now sitting in a chair at the table. He went into a coughing fit, which tugged on my heart, which in turn caused me to gently place a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling out of the chair.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked in a murmur. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't hate him. I could only feel compassion for him because he was ill- and he was getting worse each day. I tried to help him sit up, but his back had given up on being perfectly straight, so he remained in a hunched over position.

"Fix me something to eat, please."

I was able to hide my surprise when he added the p-word to his request. I nodded, starting on warming up the little bit of food from the night before. I was only vaguely aware of his hawk-eyed gaze on my back as I coaxed the fire back to life. "You've been doing well. I was worried that you would not be able to lead the church, but you have been doing better than I thought you would do."His voice was rough from his coughing fit, but that didn't matter, all that I cared about was that he had _praised_ me. I waited impatiently for the broth to grow warm enough to eat as I listened for the mocking words that usually followed the rare praise I received, but they never came.

"It won't heat any faster if you stare at it, Carlisle. You're as impatient as your mother was when it comes to things like that." Now the idea that someone had kidnapped my father and replaced him with this much more friendlier version was starting to seem possible as he half ordered, half asked me to sit beside him.

Confusion washed over me as my father started to speak, "Your mother always wanted to have a strong son. She knew the world that you would grow up in would be hard…she wanted you to be able to take on everything that was thrown at you. When Mary was pregnant she would murmur to herself while she ran her hands over her swollen stomach. She'd say 'you'll be a strong boy, Carlisle; you'll be a strong one.' She was dead-set on having a son and naming him Carlisle. She thought that was the prettiest name she had ever heard, or that was what she liked to tell me. She was terrified of giving birth because she was afraid she wouldn't know what to do once you left her body. I think that was what she fretted over the most. "He said quietly, staring blankly at the wall as he relived the past.

I was completely entranced by the time he finished the first sentence. I had always wondered over what my mother was like, but my father had forbidden even the mention of her. All I had ever known about her was that her name was Mary, she had blonde hair and blue eyes like me, and that she had a similar personality to mine. I had picked up that information from other people within our community.

"You are almost a perfect replica of her. You have her hair, but your eyes aren't as soft in their coloring. Her face was more rounded than yours is, but you get your facial shape from my own father. She loved to read anything and everything that she could get her hands on, and that was what she would do when she was done with the housework. I lost count on how many times she read her Bible, but she read it whenever she got the chance. She also loved to help people. She hated to see people hurting or without the things they needed to live, and she tried to help every person she came across. She just…she just loved helping others. She hated violence with a passion. She was determined to raise you without ever having to punish you- she wanted to avoid hurting you. She wanted to avoid hurting everyone." My father laughed a little to himself, "When she found out that she was pregnant she was ecstatic, near the end though she wasn't so happy because you were so big. Her love for you didn't fade though, even if her tolerance for carrying you around started to shrink.

"I loved her, I truly did. Mary was exactly what I needed to balance out my own hard to deal with personality. She was like the sun for London- everyone we knew loved her. She was just one of those people that everyone felt better with. She didn't let that get to her though, and she remained the same old Mary that I fell for. "His words grew quieter and I knew he was running out of things to say.

He suddenly seemed to find more to talk about after a few minutes pause, and he continued with his story. I listened intently as I took care of the broth I had been heating over the fire for my father. He ended his tale when he started to cough again, and once again, I felt a swell of compassion arise in me. Hearing him talk about the mother that had died minutes after my birth reminded me that he was still human, that he wasn't as cold as he made me think. He did have a heart. I knew that as he shakily took the bowl of broth from my hands…his heart was failing him. He would soon join my mother. And when he did, I would be alone and without any family.

We were all unusually quiet as we neared the place that the vampires were hiding. Our group of ten wasn't much, but I had managed to pick the strongest and most able men out of the twenty that volunteered. The lower number also meant a lowered death rate. I wanted as many people as possible to get out alive. Most of us were young in age and stayed under the thirty year old mark, with Oliver being the eldest and I the youngest at twenty three.

By the time we got there, my heart had started to pick up speed, hammering away in my chest. It took a lot for me to get upset or nervous, but everything in my body was screaming- no, begging- me to forget about all of this and just run home as fast as I could. If I ran home though, I wouldn't accomplish anything. The trust that the community had in me would be lost in an instant if I called everything off.

I sighed as I dismounted from Ash, typing him up, but making sure he could run for it if he needed to run. I watched as the rest of the group did the same, and then I lit the torch that I had. I couldn't help but meet the gaze of each man that was with me as I used my torch to light theirs. I could see the fear in their eyes, but I could see the trust they had in me mixed with it. Thomas's gaze wasn't at all afraid, just trusting. The sight made me feel sick at my stomach and I had to turn away quickly to avoid showing my own fear.

How could they trust me so much? I was probably about to be the reason why they would die, and yet they had agreed to this on their own free will. They expected me to be able to keep them safe if something happened- they trusted me to keep them alive. I wondered at the idea of what would happen if they knew I was afraid.

I was suddenly aware of how cold it was despite the clear skies. I winced as I tried in vain to bring my jacket tighter around my body. It was from when I was much younger, meaning it barely fit because, unfortunately, I had grown several inches in the past two years. "Do not try to attack in any form until I tell you to. If I tell you to stay, stay. If I tell you to go, then I better see every single one of you running back to your horses. If you ever see me go down, then run. I do not want any of you to die a foolish death while trying to be brave and go back after me. Help each other as often as possible and try to keep them away from the sewers, but out of the main streets. I do _not_ want them to get out and wreck havoc on the rest of the city. "I stepped towards Thomas, grabbing his collar. I forced my face to become hard and steely so I could hide my fear for my childhood friend. "And you: You better get out of this alive. If I go down and you try and help me I swear I will come back from the dead and pester you until you die. You will listen to me Thomas, if you don't…" I shook my head as I let him go.

Thomas looked a little unnerved from my orders, but he said nothing. He stepped back to Adam's side, and it was only when I saw one of the five vampires emerge, then another one hesitantly showed its face, that I started to understand what we were facing.

They were beautiful in a terrifying way. Their pale skin took on a luminous quality in the light of a full moon, and even with the ragged clothes they wore they still radiated beauty and deadly power. When the second one spoke, I recognized it to be the same vampire who had laughed at me when Thomas and I had journeyed into the tunnel that led to the sewers. He was talking so fast that there was no possible way to understand him. He also spoke in a language I didn't understand. His tongue was much older than what anyone spoke in today.

As I curled my fingers tighter around the weapon in my hand, I whispered a prayer before I straightened out of my crouch-like position. It was then that I was thankful for my youth that made me faster than the others with me- if I was ahead of them then maybe I would be the only one who would be attacked or killed, so my friends could get away while the vampires were distracted by my spilled blood.

It did work that way…or it kind of did. When one of the vampires turned to attack, naturally it fell on me first. It hissed as it knocked the pitchfork from my hand, but when I moved the open flame of the torch closer to him, he shied away.

Oliver had been close to me, so when he saw the vampire shy from the flame, he yelled that fact out. Fire was the only thing that could help us. It was obvious that this would be a lost cause now. How could I have been so stupid, so foolish? I had led every single man here to their deaths, including myself. Louis had been right after all.

As I expected, most of the group stepped back and formed a tight group. That left Oliver, Thomas, a man I didn't know, and me at least ten feet away from the rest of the group and within four feet of two vampires. The other three had fled somewhere. A scream to my left got my attention just before I saw the man I didn't know go down. He struggled against the vampire who had attacked him, but his attempts were useless- even when they were starving and weak, they were still stronger than we were. "_Go! Get out of here!"_ my voice, thankfully, sounded braver and stronger than I actually felt.

Most of the men didn't have to be told twice- they were eager to leave the chaos. My blood ran cold as I saw Oliver's neck shredded by one of the two vampires. His scream made me feel sick….

My distraction only lasted until I felt icy hands grab my arm. Then I felt a horrific pain tear through my neck as the vampire who had laughed at me attempted to get a good grip. He seemed to be having trouble finding purchase on my neck as I struggled, so it only made my neck become all the more torn as I fought and he buried his teeth into my skin several times. "Carlisle!" the yell came from Thomas. He had gotten backed into a wall by the other vampire- apparently killing Oliver and the other man wasn't enough- now it had to go after Thomas.

For some reason I managed to get free that time. Maybe it was fear for my friend that gave me the ability to push free of my own attacker, but I stumbled over something that gave a moan. I didn't stop to see who it was.

My vision was fading from all the blood that I had lost; the hot blood that I could feel running down from my torn neck and down my back and chest. I didn't stay up on my feet because of the fire that felt like it was inside of me.

Everything burned. My mind whirled as I searched for the flames that were burning me alive, but there were none.

Arms wrapped around me, but there were soft and human, not icy and hard like the vampire's when he had tried to hold me still long enough to get a good hold on my neck.

Thomas.

His eyes were wide with panic as he took in the sight of whatever my neck now was- whatever was left of my neck. "Get out of here Thomas. Go…don't worry about me…just get out of here." I pleaded. I looked away long enough to see that the vampires were distracted by their earlier kills, Oliver and the man.

One of them noticed that we were still alive-how I don't know. Maybe he heard our voices or maybe he could hear our hearts beating frantically in our bodies. As one grabbed Thomas and the other reached for me, the first one hissed a sharp no.

"No, please…take me with you….just kill me now…please." I hated the begging words I was whispering, but that was all I wanted. I just wanted to die. If it stopped the fire, then I wanted to die.

"*_Iam vos vadum exuro , nos ostendo haud misericordia in ones ut iuguolo nos." _

The whispered words were so soft that I could barely hear them. I had no trouble seeing the two vampires run though, one of them carrying Thomas. They would kill him. My best friend was about to die because of one, fatal mistake that I had made.

It was several hours before I finally managed to move while the fire still burned me on the inside. I couldn't stand, so I crawled. As I saw the two men who had been left in the streets like I had, I shuddered because of their injuries. Oliver's neck was…there was nothing left of it. The other man was in a similar condition. Apparently there was just enough of my neck still there that I was able to stay alive. I dared to touch it, but as my fingers probed deeper and deeper into the wound, I quit. The wound was deep, but most of the shredded skin was somehow patched on by a cool liquid that I assumed was the vampire's venom. So most of my wound had been sealed with something…meaning it was only a matter of time before I became one of _them. _

I did not stop crawling until I found a house that had a cellar close to where I was. I buried myself in the potatoes and stuffed one into my mouth so if I screamed, no one would hear. If I was heard, I would be killed, and as much as I wanted to die, I could not handle the idea of what my father would do if he found out what I was becoming.

_*Now you shall burn, we show no mercy on the ones that kill us._


	10. Early Vampire

_**And So I Burn**_

_**Carlisle's Story part two**_

_**State of Being: Early Vampire**_

_**Years: 1668 to 1673**_


	11. I Become A Monster

_**Year: 1668**_

_**Current status: Mid-transformation into a vampire (2 days)**_

_**Location: Potato cellar**_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

I had absolutely no idea how long I had been lying where I was; I just knew that the fire was still burning me alive. The slightest cooling started in my fingertips and toes as the fire started to creep away and focus more in my chest. It grew more intense the closer it got. I had yet to feel any true relief since the fire had first started.

A dry ache started to form in my throat as my arms and legs stopped burning. My head, neck, and shoulders were next along with my waist. The ache in my throat was becoming a sharper, much more intense pain as all the fire that was in my body burned my heart. I had been listening to its furious pounding for hours now, maybe days, and the fact that I was nearing the end weighed heavily on my mind. There were more important things that plagued me, most importantly were the thoughts of what had happened to Thomas. The idea of them _drinking his blood_ was too much for me to bear. The idea of him suffering through the same fire I was going through was nearly as bad.

How had the vampires known that it was me who was leading the hunt? I hadn't exactly yelled that out, but they had known. The vampire who had said no had made his comment specifically to me.

As I rolled over some in a failed attempt to escape my fiery prison, I felt the roughness of wood brush my arm. I understood what had given me away without even having to see it- it was the cross that hung from my neck. I had completely forgotten about it in my burning and during the fight. In our group of ten, only Adam and I wore them, but mine wasn't as ornate as his was. Apparently that didn't matter though; they still knew that I was the one who had led the attack that was meant to be their end. It turned out not to be their end, but to be Thomas's, Oliver's, the man I didn't know, and my own end.

The thing I was becoming could not be trusted. I would have to flee London as soon as I could. If I lingered, I could kill someone in an attempt to feed myself. The idea of killing in cold blood was something that I didn't want to linger on. If I could get away, if I could escape to the wooded countryside, then maybe I could stay there until I starved to death. Surely I could starve? I already knew that fire was somehow dangerous if I went by the vampires' reaction to the torches, but there had to be other ways of killing myself. I couldn't be completely indestructible, could I?

The creaking of a door made me shrink back in fear. Had someone discovered the fact that I was here? Had I made more noise than I thought I had? I clamped my eyes shut and allowed my teeth to sink into the potato in my mouth while I stopped breathing. I prayed that my thundering heart could only be heard by me. Thankfully the person who had come down didn't dig in the pile of food I was in. They got what they needed from the top, so I was safe. I wanted to be found so I could plead for someone to go on ahead and kill me, but I didn't want to be found because I didn't want anyone to find out what I was.

The ache in my throat became almost unbearable with the presence of someone close to me. I curled my hands into fists, determined not to attack anyone or anything. I could not kill a human. I refused to take someone's life that didn't deserve to die. Even if I was becoming a murderer, I would do everything I could to avoid murdering for as long as I could.

My torture was finally up when I my thundering heart finally grew silent. I was now fully aware of what I was, fully aware of the fact that I needed to run before anyone found me. I was more concerned with the retched stench that filled my nostrils and the disgusting thing in my mouth. I spat it out as I rolled my way out of my foul-smelling prison. I landed on my feet in a half crouch and stayed there as I tried to get my bearings.

The noise of the crowded city filled my ears and almost overwhelmed me. I forced myself to focus on things that were closer, such as the rat that was nibbling on a piece of food three feet from me. I wasn't sure what stunned me more, the fact that I could hear everything around me or the fact that I could hear the tiny heart in the animal's body.

I had barely considered standing normally when I realized that I was. Apparently my reflexes were much faster now. The faster the reflexes… the easier to take down the humans that I was supposed to live off of, but I had promised myself I would not kill, so I refused to think that way. My throat was burning again, reminding me of what I was. I winced in pain before I searched for the door that I had came in through. As I tried to open it a door came off and I realized I was much stronger now as well. How strong though? I didn't bother to figure that out as I climbed out and ran down the street I was in.

It wasn't dark, but there was light fading from the sky, so it was dusk. So far all I knew was that I needed the cover of darkness. If the other vampires had only come out in the dark, then there must be something bad about the day. Before I even had a chance to realize where I was, I was out of the city. So I was also faster than normal- nothing about me was the same.

I stopped only long enough to look over my shoulder at the city that was at least a half mile away now. This would be the last time I would see it. I could not come back. If I came back, my return could mean someone else's death.

I returned my gaze to the woods in front of me as I forced myself to run again. When I found a pool of water that looked deep enough for what I needed, I dove in. I allowed the water to flood into my lungs as I swam to the bottom, but I soon found that this would not work. Drowning was out of the question- I didn't need to breathe, so the water just filled my lungs, but didn't kill me.

I looked around as I came up after an hour or so. Once I reached the bank of the small lake, I supported myself on my hands and knees while the water left my lungs in a series of hard coughs and a few attempts at vomiting it from my stomach. My wet clothing was the least of my worries. My biggest problem was that my first attempt at killing myself had failed. My second biggest problem was the burning in my throat. It had gotten worse now and the desire to sate it by killing was growing stronger and was clouding my thoughts. Shaking my head, I tried to clear it of the bloodthirsty thoughts that sought control over me. A demon had taken root inside of me, but I refused to allow it to control me.

Standing on my own two feet again, I tried other ways to kill myself. I ran into massive trees and boulders. I forced myself to eat dirt, but in the end it was vomited back up. My panic grew stronger when the first rays of light came. Maybe, just maybe this was my answer…maybe I could burn by sunlight. That had to be why the others showed themselves only in the dark- the sunlight had to be the one thing that could kill me.

The sunlight didn't burn my skin, it reflected off of it. The small rainbows that bounced around the area because of my skin only caused me to hate myself all the more. Any other time I would have been intrigued by the way my new skin had held up to the abuse I had already put it through along with the way it reflect light like a diamond, but all I wanted was to rid the world of my being. I wanted to die, not sparkle in the sunlight like a precious gemstone.

I found a place where a few large rocks had made a formation that was big enough for me to fit into, but small enough to keep me from being seen as it started to snow. I hid inside the rock shelter; half hoping it would fall and crush me. It didn't though.

I stared out of my prison while I tried to think of other ways to kill the monster that was inside Carlisle Cullen's body.


	12. 1670

_**Year: 1670**_

_**Two years since first bitten **_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

200 failed attempts at ending my life. I had tried 200 times, and I was still alive. Why had I become one of the Devil's creatures? I had lived my life as a decent person- I was nowhere near perfect, but I had been decent- so why had I become a monster?

My throat had once been on fire and burned constantly, now it was only dry and sore. Maybe I was getting lucky, maybe the monster was giving up. I hoped it was. _You hope to die? The monster and you are now one creature- you either embrace that or you die._ My thoughts argued with me, they had sided with the monster. Every day they made a point to remind me of the dryness in my throat and the way I could soothe it. Sometimes they sided with me and agreed that my attempt at killing myself was reasonable and was right.

Either the monster had its own conscious, or I was going mad. The theory that I was mad seemed much more possible.

Twilight had finally come, bringing with it my brief feelings of relief. I had lasted another day without killing anyone. I was one more day closer to my goal of ending my own existence. Now that night was here, my ability to control myself wouldn't be as easily tested because the people that entered the woods at night never got near my hiding place. My eyes closed in pain as the dry ache in my throat became unbearable as the sound of several hearts filled my ears-several large hearts.

I wasn't even aware of what I was doing until it was far too late. The body that I gripped in my arms was barely struggling as I let the taste of what I had desired for so long finally come in contact with my lips. The warm liquid was gone in a few minutes, but by the time I had ran out, I had also realized what I had done.

Around me lay about ten deer carcasses; each one had its neck torn all the way to the jugular. Each one was completely drained of blood. I looked down at the dead animal in my arms and quickly let it go, moving away to the center of the bodies. I hadn't even realized that I had attacked any of them until I was on the last one. I had been in a daze during the whole slaughter.

A small, impossible feeling of hope made itself known as I realized my throat barely ached. Could I substitute the human blood I was supposed to have with animal blood and avoid murdering people? I could, and in doing so I would no longer be warring with the monster inside me.

I stood and wandered until I came across the pool of water I had tried to drown myself in. Kneeling beside it, the little light that was left revealed to me the face of what I now was.

My skin was even paler than it had been when I was human. The scar that had ran along my hand and arm from a woodworking accident was gone. Every scar I had when I was human was gone. My face had changed too; I had broken my nose at one point and then reset it, but it had been slightly crooked afterwards, now it was perfectly straight- everything about me that had been 'wrong' was now fixed. I was trying to ignore my eyes by looking at my hands. When I saw that the calluses from working all my life were still there, only less obvious, I was pleases to know that at least _something_ about me was still the same.

I now had to look at my eyes. They weren't blood red, but a very dark shade of gold laced with red. I could remember only looking at my eyes one time and they had been a vibrant red. This gold color wasn't as terrible as I would have expected. When my gaze flickered to my neck, I winced from the condition it was in. The barely raised scar covered most of my neck and looked like it had been patched on to meet the rest of my skin. The color was a shade or two darker than the rest of my pale skin. The collar of my shirt would cover most of it without any problem.

That brought me to the….horrid condition of my clothing. My already worn clothing was shredding in several places. I had looked fairly filthy several times, but never this bad. I was instinctively ashamed of how I looked. I was one of those people who tried to stay halfway clean at all times, so seeing myself with leaves in my hair along with dirt on my body was something that bothered me more than I would have thought possible. It didn't help that I smelled like all the animals that had joined me during the period I had been starving myself.

Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I finally dove into the water after removing my torn clothes. When I was decent and no longer resembled someone who had never drawn up a bath in their life, I worked on my clothing. I dressed in my pants first out of paranoia while I tried to clean my shirt and jacket without ruining them any further than they already were. The blood from my hunting wouldn't come out, but I could live with that. While I allowed my shirt and jacket to dry, I fed myself once again, then came back and dressed. The cuffs were two inches from my wrists, but at least I was clean and decently clothed now.

I found myself at the edge of the woods and staring at the city I had once called home as dawn came.. I had to go back to London; I was in severe need of clothing of any form so I could leave the area and set out on my own. I could at least protect the people I had once led. The grin that spread across my face was old and familiar as I thought of my father and what he would do if he learned of what I now was. He would never believe me at first, and then he would try to hurt or kill me when he found that I wasn't lying. I shouldn't have grinned at the idea of how surprised he would be when he found me indestructible, but I couldn't help it that the whole thing amused me. The monster Carlisle thought sinister things like that were amusing. The human Carlisle would have been appalled by the idea of upsetting his father and would have went out of his way to keep him happy, but the monster Carlisle had no fear of being struck, so he did not care if his father became angered. It felt that way at least- I felt powerful, yet horrible because of what I was. No matter what, I was a monster.

When dawn arrived I left the edge of the trees and decided to have one last feast. If I was enter the city tomorrow night then I had to gorge so that maybe I would be less likely to want to harm someone.


	13. Chapter 13

_**I'm not sure if I like this chapter very much, so I may or may not take it down to edit/redo it.**_

_**Year: 1670**_

_**Time: Just after nightfall**_

_**Louis's POV**_

As the other people filed out of the church, I remained in my seat. I was aware of the other six men who were still in the room, but I wasn't looking at them. None of us were looking at each other. We were all staring at the wooden cross that hung above the pulpit and thinking of the man who had made it…and of his son along with the other three people who were lost to an attempt at cleansing the city that had went horribly wrong. I had not went on the ambush of the vampires and I did not regret that decision, I just regretted yelling and fighting with several good men only hours before they died. One had gotten married just a few months before he lost his life, another had been married for forty-five years before his wife had died from the plague, one was a young man who was new to London and had many wild ambitions, while the final one had been one of the leaders of the church and had done everything he could to help every person he ever met. None of them had deserved to die the way they had; their deaths had been gory and violent. The three bodies that had been found were all viciously slaughtered, but no one had seen or heard from the person that had found the vampires or led the attack. Several people entertained the idea that he might have gotten away and ran for his life, but those of us that had been close to him knew that he never would have done such a thing- he would have been fighting until he was dead in an attempt to protect the men with him.

"I don't like the man who has replaced him….he is too much like John Cullen. He is far too rash. "I glanced at the man who had spoken; he was an older man, but he was young enough to recall all that had happened in the past twenty years. I knew him as Christopher.

"I don't care for him either, but the chances of coming across a person like Brother Carlisle once again are impossible." I murmured in answer. I wasn't sure how many times we had had this discussion since the night that the vampires had killed a few of our members. The remaining men had fled without hesitation, some on horseback, the others leading the frightened animals who were in the same state of panic as they were. By the time that everyone had calmed down enough to think straight, we had realized that Oliver, a man named Eric, Thomas, and Carlisle were all missing. All four of the men were last seen with the vampires.

Going after the vampires had been a terrible mistake, and lives had been lost because of it. Now the people remaining in the Church were in a state of discontent under the new leadership of someone who possessed the same qualities of another man that had led us before him…John Cullen had not been the best person to have in a state of power, and this man was proving himself to be the same.

"We never found his body, he could still be alive."

"Am I the only one who remembers the smear of blood that led away from the area as if a body had been dragged away? We have to accept the fact that Carlisle Cullen is either dead or a vampire. I don't care what you decide he has become, but he will _not_ be returning. If he was a vampire, he would have returned to the city in search of blood. If he was killed, then all he is now is a pile of bones because the rest of him has rotted- is it really that hard to understand?" I couldn't tolerate the way they kept holding out hope for someone who was dead or a monster. Why couldn't they move on? We had to move on; it was the only way to keep the Church from crumbling.

"Louis, we remember what happened very well and we do not need you to yell at us so we can remember. You lost two friends, I lost my son and a young man who I had known very well and considered to be a second son of mine. I agree that we should move on, but we should remember what we learned from all of them. You loved all of these men as friends and respected them, didn't you?"

I was put on the spot by Thomas's father. I hated it when he did such things, but I nodded in acceptance. Yes, I had loved and respected them all: Thomas for his loyalty, Oliver for his knowledge, the young man-Eric- for his eagerness and love of life, and Carlisle for the way he cared for and about everyone that came his way.

The older man smiled briefly, but it vanished in an instant. He had everyone's attention for the moment, something that again bothered me. "Then we should all let their memories live on, but in peace. Arguing about what happened will do little for them to be remembered as good men. If you love them as you claim to, then let them go so they may rest in peace." His hazel eyes flickered uneasily around the room, as if to check that he wasn't about to get yelled at for his words.

Slowly, we all agreed to quit our bickering and let it all go. As we dispersed and headed for our homes, I had to stop on the steps of the church to stare at the home that was almost completely hidden in the blackness around it. After Carlisle had been declared dead, John had lost what little of his mind was left. First, he had run as fast as his ill body could go to the place where the vampire attack had been. Screaming, he moved in circles until he found a scrap of fabric that matched the overcoat Carlisle had been wearing. He found the fabric in a pool of blood that was smeared from two sets of foot prints- one was barefoot, the other set was from a pair of heavily worn shoes that were almost worn through. The vampire was the barefooted one, the shoes had belonged to Carlisle. Judging by the way the shoe prints were smeared in the same fashion that a person's foot would slide if they were struggling to get away from someone who was holding them, it was safe to say that at some point, Carlisle had been caught in the grip of a vampire, and most likely his teeth as well. John Cullen had coughed until he began to have a panic attack from the rapid breathing and the coughing while he followed the blood prints that staggered across the small space. The blood splatters and shoe prints had brought him to a place where the blood was heaviest. The prints had went from being semi normal to slid out again as another place of heavy blood revealed that Carlisle had went down. From that point the trail of blood looked as if he had drug himself- or had been drug- from there to ten feet away where the footprints appeared again. The blood was noticeably less, almost like the bleeding had stopped or was almost stopped.

The only way any of us knew this was because I had followed John, along with Christopher and Joan, Thomas's young wife.

Half dragging, half coaxing him back to his home had been something that none of us wanted to do. By the point we could seat him in a chair, he was whispering "Dead…no more…no family….no son…no her…" repeatedly. The words made sense to an extent. Carlisle had been the last of the Cullen linage. John did not have any brothers or sisters, and Carlisle was an only child as well. Carlisle had been a very close replica of his mother, even down to the slightly pouted lips. Mary had been very feminine in looks, but Carlisle's had been traditional and masculine, excluding the set of his lips. It was understandable that John would use Carlisle's personality that was so close to Mary's as a way to hold onto his wife. Lose Carlisle, lose Mary forever. He acted like he was coming back to his senses…that was until he went to the place where his bed was and locked himself away. It was almost a full two hours afterwards that we heard the sound of a small firearm go off from inside the room. When we got the door open, we found John Cullen with a wound to the chest from where he had tried to take his own life. The doctor did what he could to help, but in the end the wound was fatal and John died exactly three days after his son had been declared dead since no body was found. John was buried beside his wife, with a small marker beside the two graves for Carlisle with his name, birth date, and death date written on it just like the rest of his family.

No one had entered the house since John shot himself, and no one really wanted to go inside. The rotting building was a reminder of the dark days of the hunts and the consequences of what happened when it all went wrong.

_**Carlisle's POV**_

Being so close to the city made my throat catch fire like it had the first night. I had spent so long being isolated from the rest of the world that it was almost impossible to get close to the scent of humans. I had to though. I needed decent clothes, among other things, before I could officially leave my home.

It was difficult to walk in the maze of alleys that I was using, but it was safer than braving the main streets. Not by much though. Several time I had to stop myself from letting the bloodlust take over by using the thought of having an innocent's blood on my hands- that stopped the monster in its tracks. My foggy memory struggled with remembering, but certain sights and sounds helped guide me. The sight of an old woodshop told me I was six miles from my home, while the sound of the Bell told me the time was near midnight. My memory started to return as I found the old church that was near the outskirts of the city, and behind it, my home.

No candles. The old building I had grown up in was shrouded in utter darkness.

When I reached it, I hesitantly tugged on the door, wincing when it came off its hinges. I had forgotten about my strength…again. The layer of dust on the floor was the thickest I had ever seen it and it layered everything. Even though my vision was perfect, I found a candle and lit it anyways.

The further I walked and the more I explored, the more it became apparent that no one had been in the house in a very long time. The main room and my father's room were in wrecks. The blood in my father's room caused my throat to ache, but the blood was stale and had been on the ground and bed for a long time, maybe years.

Years….how long had I been gone? When I had been changed, the year had been 1668….what was the year now? 1669? 1670? It scared me that I didn't know.

Moving on to the tiny nook with a door that I had called my room, I walked inside. My clothing had been ruined by moths and rats. I would have to find some other way to get a hold of some decent clothing. "I wonder…." Getting on my hands and knees, I looked under the bed, grinning when I saw an old blanket. I pulled on it, revealing the stash of books I had kept hidden.

I pulled them out, studying them. One was a copy of the sonnets by Shakespeare that had belonged to my mother at one point. The other was a medical dictionary that the local doctor had allowed me borrow to read. I was supposed to have turned it back into him the day _it_ had happened.

I was not surprised to see the Bible I had owned sitting on the small table beside my bed. A blurry memory came into my mind as I picked it up and added it to the stack of books in my lap. My father had given me the book even though we had only a small amount of books within our church. It had been what he taught me how to read out of. He also had made me copy passages from it until I could write reasonably well. That had taken years, but I could write decently by the time I was ten.

It was one of the very few gifts my father had given me- the gift to be able to understand the things scribbled inside a book. I had tried to teach Thomas, but he hadn't understood the words. He could pen his name, but after that, he couldn't write.

Thinking of all of this wasn't helping me though; I stood up again, this time carrying the small stack of books with me. I hesitated as I passed my father's door, deciding one last look inside the room wouldn't hurt.

That last little peak into the room revealed something that made my muddled thoughts become crystal clear as the heavy ring sat on an old stool by the bed. I had never seen my father take the ring off in my entire life.


End file.
